


What would you do for your kids

by SelKar



Category: A Quiet Place (2018)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Regan why, Spoilers, why did you turn it off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelKar/pseuds/SelKar
Summary: What would have happened had Regan not turned it off, from the Dad's POV.Insert Toy Story meme: "SPOILERS. Spoilers everywhere."





	What would you do for your kids

**Author's Note:**

> Had to IMDB'd the names of the family, I was about to go with Dad, Son, Daughter, Wife for the whole thing, and then I thought to look.
> 
> How terrible is it that I only remembered the name of the dead kid 'cause it was in his little tomb? Beau. That poor thing.
> 
> Also... Disclaimer: A Quiet Place isn't mine, and I in no way benefit from this.
> 
> Besides, this was mostly just me messing around, if I'm being honest, I wouldn't change anything in the movie, it's awesome as it is.

He felt the claw tearing open his side, and air rushed out of his lungs as white noise filled his ears.

He clenched his teeth against the scream that built in his throat. He couldn't scream, his addled brain reminded him, days -weeks, months- of forced muteness kicked in and left him gasping in silence as he was flung through the air. 

The wind was rushing through his ears, and the pain burning a hole in his side was almost enough to muffle it, but he still heard it, 'Dad!!'.

 _No_.

_No no nonono._

**_Fuck_ **.

The impact against the dirt was jarring, and for what seemed like an eternity his world was reduced to the most excruciating pain, his cold insides twisting themselves into a knot, eyes screwing up shut as his mouth opened. 

_Don't scream. Just stop. Breathe._

Dirt filled his mouth as he gasped, his body laying uselessly on his front.

The screeching noise as the truck’s metal roof was scratched by alien claws brought him back.

_Regan._

_Marcus_.

_Not his kids, please, not again._

Blinking enough to dispel the dirt brought the handle of the pick axe to view. Fat load of good it had done. He grabbed it either way, he would need the leverage to get up.

He had to swallow five different screams trying to climb their way up his throat.

It took his confused brain, watering eyes and ringing ears a few seconds to process what he was seeing. The alien was screeching, the separate plates of its skull rippling as it shook its head.

He could barely see his kids, huddled in the front seat of the truck.

Clutching his side with one arm to stifle the blood leaking out, he dragged the pick axe forward, pushed against it to make sure it wouldn’t move and took a step towards the truck leaning on it.

The screeching became louder, he saw the claws bashing against the roof of the car repeatedly and hurried as much as he could, his hand clutching the pick axe tighter.

It would _not_ take his kids, he would drive the pick axe into that thing’s head if it was the last thing he did, but he wouldn't fail another one of his kids.  _Not. Again._

He was but six steps away from the car when whatever was causing its pain seemed to win over its hunger, and with a leap it dove into the cornfield.

Marcus opened the door almost as soon as it went away, rushing out and towards him, eyes wide in his pale face. 'Dad!' he whisper-screamed this time.

The moment he saw Regan slipping out of the truck as well, one hand pressed against the side of her head, his legs gave up on him and his hand slid down the wooden handle as he fell to his knees.

Marcus’ body slammed against his for the second time in less than twenty minutes, again, Regan’s followed suit. _Thank you, God._

This time, when he hugged them, it was as much to stay upright as it was to feel them close and breathing, still alive.

‘We have to go,’ Marcus signed, looking into the cornfield with wide, scared eyes.

He nodded, and pointed to the truck ‘You go ahead,’ Regan shook her head, hands clutching his right arm, looking like she would like to drag him to the truck all by herself. ‘Go, I’ll stop it if it comes back,’ he promised them, just like he had promised Evelyn, and he would somehow deliver.

Marcus bit his trembling lips, lifted his hands as if to sign something, but ended up just clenching them so tightly they shook instead. Lee let go of his still bleeding side, lifting his hand took more effort than he expected, and before he even reached his son’s hands, Marcus exchanged a look with his sister, who looked over to where she was clutching his arm, then back at his brother, and the two of them seemed to come to a silent agreement.

‘No!’ he said in a barely there whisper, going back to not making any noise in case the alien was still around. He would have signed it as well, but Marcus was already grabbing his left arm.

They didn’t give him any time to refuse again, or prepare for it, they just started dragging him towards the truck.

The tear in his side, which had become numb through the sheer desperation he had been experiencing, made itself known again with a shot of hot white pain like someone was trying to saw him in half.

He gasped and slipped his right arm free from Regan’s grasp, lifting his hand as fast as he could to sign ‘Wait,’ and then ‘come closer,’ when it looked like they would complain.

They exchanged another look but stepped closer. The determination in their little faces made his heart sink, and he admitted defeat without even trying.

He freed his arm from his son’s grip and instead put it over his shoulders. Regan, clever girl that she was, got what he wanted to do quickly and did the same with his free arm.

With strength that was fast leaving him, he pushed up and, thanks to them, managed to stand up and take the last steps towards the truck, Regan crawling in first and tugging at him until he was inside as well.

Marcus climbed over him, holding the door closed without actually closing it and releasing the brake with his other hand.

The car moved down the road, slowly but surely.

Lee rested a hand against his side, blood covered now almost all his shirt below the wound and a good part of the top of his jeans. He was losing too much blood. His thoughts went to his wife, and that beautiful baby that were waiting home for them, and was absolutely certain all of a sudden. He wasn't going to make it. He turned his head to the side, towards his kids. If these were his last moments, he had to make the best of it. Lifting the hand not putting some pressure against his wound, he signed ‘I love you,’ to Regan, who was staring at him with a pale face and wet eyes. Marcus’ head turned when he noticed him moving and so he also saw him watching them both and tiredly signing ‘I have always loved you both, and I will always love you.’ Marcus’ smiled and nodded, turning to look back towards the house to know when to pull the brake again.

He turned as well, catching sight of his wife at the door, holding the rifle steady, prepared for anything.

His body slumped, a huge breath leaving him as everything finally caught up with him, and even though he knew he shouldn’t, he gave into the darkness creeping around the edges of his vision.

*-*

There was screeching, things breaking, and a shot, far away, too far away.

Sound slipped away from him again.

*-*

There was buzzing, a noise like microphone interference.

One, two shots, muffled, too far away.

Darkness and numbness overcame him again.

*-*

He was laying on something what wasn’t quite as hard as the floor, his side was throbbing, hot yet not burning, aching but not the blinding pain of before.

Against his side, resting between his torso on the opposite side of the wound and his arm, was the babbling, squirming weight of his baby son.

‘Shh, you will wake up daddy’ came the sweet, glorious voice of his wife, louder than he had heard it in months. His pulse shot up and his eyes opened fast, but before he could sit up Evelyn was putting a hand against his shoulder and pushing him down again. ‘Hey,’ she gave him a tremulous smile, ‘you had us worried’.

‘What are you doing?!’ he asked as loudly as he dared, in a barely there whisper.

Her smile grew, a proud look on her face making her seem fierce. _Beautiful_.

‘Let me catch you up. You will never believe what our daughter discovered’.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had a really terrible dream of how the sequel would be (because I spent a shitload of time yesterday watching videos and reading news about A Quiet Place) and it went something like this: they finally manage to contact someone, people get organized, they beat back the threat, and then there was a close up on the family on the anniversary of the dad's murder, and it was the fucking saddest thing ever, especially for the now older (let's say 8 year old) new kid, 'cause he had never met his dad. And it broke my heart even worse than watching the dad's death.
> 
> Also, the title comes from an interview John Krasinski did in The View, where he said that "It looks insane when you see the posters, but this truly is a love letter to my kids. This is about parenthood, and it's a very scary movie, which I love, but it's about what would you really do for your kids."
> 
> BTW, I'll probably come back in about a week and do some beta reading and edit (if I don't outright delete it from the horror), but if you catch anything weird, or wrong, just let me know.
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> Edit: Fucking hell, I made three separate mental notes to change Markus name to Marcus in my story, and only hours after posting it I remember that I didn't do it. Thanks brain!


End file.
